


The Dreams in which I'm Dying

by Crossroads_Castiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Castiel Needs a Hug, Castiel Saves Dean Winchester, Declarations Of Love, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Everything Hurts, I'm Sorry, M/M, Season/Series 12
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:52:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9551780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crossroads_Castiel/pseuds/Crossroads_Castiel
Summary: "The Dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had."-Mad WorldCastiel makes a deal with the Reapers to atone for he and Dean's choices that had lead to Reaper deaths and the demise of Death himself. Castiel becomes the new Death. He believes he can now protect them from dying while atoning for his mistakes, but even Death is not immune to sadness, pain, and longing. Dean is determined to save his friend, but he just doesn't know how...Time period is post 12x09. Some spoilers for Season 12.





	1. We have to save him

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. This one came to my mind and it's gonna be dark and sad for a while and I'm so sorry! However, there will be a happy ending, eventually...I think.

They had not even made it into the bunker from the prison when Castiel had begged off, saying he had to go. Dean couldn’t say a thing as Castiel got into the pickup he’d stolen and driven off without another word. He stood there stunned, side by side with Sam, watching Cass disappear again, and he said nothing to stop him. He’d just killed Billie for them and Dean had not said another word to him as they piled into the car. He hadn’t known what to say. He had been prepared to face the consequences of his deal. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but to save Sam he was prepared to do it. He had only wanted to see Cass one more time, to explain his choice…but it had all gone awry, and now Cosmic Consequences loomed over his friend’s head, again. He trudged inside, his feet feeling so heavy. He didn’t know how to feel. He was alive. Sam was alive. Mom was alive. Cass was alive….so why did Dean have the feeling terrible things were afoot?...Because that was how their life went. The other shoe was only waiting to drop.

They did not hear from Castiel for several days, despite Dean texting, calling, and even praying to him. Sam did not know Dean had been doing any of those things but when Dean caught Sam texting Castiel’s phone, he admitted it and they discussed what had been going on. He had not responded to any of their calls or texts other than to say he was okay. No details. No other information. Dean and Sam happened to be sitting together in the bunker kitchen eating breakfast when Castiel showed up suddenly several days later. 

“Hello Sam. Dean,” Castiel said from the doorway. They immediately noticed he looked calm and unharmed but resigned. His face held no emotion but his eyes held a deep regret and sorrow that had Dean clutching the table in preparation. He was also wearing a new outfit. He was in all black from his shirt to his tie, from pants to shoes. They stood up in unison to meet him but he took several steady steps back, his new polished black dress shoes clicking on the concrete floor. “Please. Stay there,” Castiel kept his hands to his side and avoided eye contact, his eyes almost squinted shut.   
“Cass, what’s going on….and what’s with the outfit change? Where’ve you been?” Sam fired off as Dean looked on hesitantly, confused as to why Castiel didn’t want to touch them. They did as he asked, however, and remained glued to the spots they stood in.

Castiel closed his eyes a moment as he sighed, rolling his eyes Heavenward to avoid looking at them. “I will keep this brief. I have much work to do. The new outfit was a demand of the reapers. They said I needed to look more “ominous and awe-inspiring.” My vote did not count.” Castiel finger quoted the words and Dean fought back a small smile of familiarity, knowing bad news was coming. 

Suddenly recognition struck. “Reapers? Why are you hanging with…oh…No. No way,” Dean growled out, his eyes widening in horror at a sudden realization. “Cass…you’re not..”

Castiel held his hand up, letting the silver ring with the pure white stone belonging to Death glint off the light in the kitchen. Dean and Sam both sucked in a breath as Cass gave a resigned sigh. “It’s what the Reapers demanded of me for taking Billie from them, and for Dean killing Death himself. There is not another among them strong enough to fill the role. Billie really was not fit for it but she stepped up, bravely I might add. This was the consequence of my action, and I am strong enough to carry the mantle. It is a just punishment. They said I had killed enough Angels and humans that I should be well suited to the role…” Castiel groaned out as if in pain, still avoiding eye contact. 

“So…why won’t you look at us?” Sam said quietly, his voice echoing in the silence of the kitchen even as he whispered. 

“I am still adjusting to some aspects of my role...I…I can look at anyone and see when they are going to die…I…I don’t want to know about you two. I should be able to control it soon. Besides, now I can prevent it until you are both elderly and have had the chance to live a happy, long life. It’s what you deserve. Happiness and long lives. Long lives I can give you now at least. I never was good for much of anything else.” Dean hedged forward again, his hand outstretched but Castiel stepped away again. “Dean…no. I’m afraid if you touch me, if anyone touches me, they’ll…they’ll die. I…I have to go. One benefit…I have wings again. I’m sorry. It will be some time before we see one another again…Goodbye…” and Cass was gone.

Dean and Sam stared at the spot Castiel had stood in, not knowing what to say. Finally Dean broke the silence with an impassioned, “Damn it!”

With that swear, the air seemed to seep out of them and they both sunk into their chairs, heads in their hands. Sam spoke quietly. “They just condemned Cass to never touching anyone ever again…Cass, the Angel who loves hugs…” Dean groaned and clutched his head in his hands tighter, fighting back the tears that had already threatened to spill when Cass had told them how much they meant to him that night. He had been trying to come up with a worthy response to that speech, to tell him how he felt the same, but he was too late. Now those tears were back, but these were mourning tears. Castiel wasn’t dead, but he might as well be. They had condemned the Angel that loved humanity, that loved guinea pigs, kittens, babies, and bees…to reaping souls…Did they have any idea what they had done? Did they care? 

“We’ll find Cass a way out of this. There has to be a way out of this,” Dean said with assuredness as he scrubbed off the tears that had run down his face.

Sam sat quietly for a few minutes then he whispered out, “Even if we do, will he even still be the same Angel he was?”  
\---------------------------------------------  
Dean and Sam were on a hunt when they ran into their first Reaper since Castiel became Death. They had been to the morgue of the hospital to examine a body when a blonde haired woman in a black business suit appeared before them. They both jumped back, startled, but quickly realized who she was. 

“You’re a reaper! How’s Cass? Where is he?” Dean threw his words at her, his face contorted in worry. She held up a hand to silence Dean and he fell quiet, tenseness and worry etched in the lines of his face. 

“My boss doesn’t know I’m here…Well, he probably does now. Death is omniscient after all…He…He is not what we expected, and he is very unhappy I am sorry to say. He has forbidden any of us from speaking to or reaping you but he is also kind, so I do not fear his wrath. It will be just but not cruel. I needed you to know, he is not being harmed. He is physical well. He worries for you both though. He can sense your unhappiness and it consumes him. If you could both move on, be happy, it would make his part to play much easier for him…” She stood resolute, looking between Sam and Dean with an emotionless face. 

“You blackmailed him into playing your Angel of Death…How do you expect him to feel? He hates killing…” Dean growled out as he stepped into her space. 

The Reaper shrugged, unfeeling.“He is directly responsible for the death of one reaper and indirectly responsible for two others and Death’s demise due to his affiliations with you, Dean Winchester. It was fair of us to ask it…”

“I killed Tessa…not him. Actually she killed herself on my blade…I killed April because she killed him! And Billie…he killed her to save us. Death’s death is on me. That was my choice. Why should Castiel pay the price for my sins?” Dean shouted at the unfeeling face of the Reaper who stood unblinking. Sam put a hand on Dean's shoulder, bracing him.

Her face became contemplative. “He didn’t tell you. He chose it. It was that or we Reap you permanently, Dean, for your sins against the Reapers. He could not defeat us all as just an Angel, so he chose to save you and become Death.” Sam looked to Dean as his shoulders slumped, defeated, as her words sank in. Sam knew this was Dean’s worst nightmare, his loved ones paying for his mistakes. Suddenly Dean and Sam felt a crushing weight that felt like ice rush down their spines and the reaper’s eyes widened. “He’s coming.” The sun seemed to slide behind a cloud and the wind picked up outside. Dean and Sam looked to one another with dread. 

Castiel appeared in the room, his black trench settling with the rustle of his invisible wings. His blue eyes were diminished and darker, his pupils large, as he turned on the reaper, whose shoulders were turned in on herself. “Mirra! I believe I made myself clear that no Reapers were to engage the Winchesters in any manner…Was I unclear in my instructions in any way?” His hair stood in spiky disarray as it had the day Dean met him and his heart ached for his friend. He looked pale, gaunt, and so very unhappy. 

“No…no sir. I apologize for overstepping my bounds. I just thought if they knew…” Mirra whispered out, stuttering as she took a knee and lowered her head. 

Castiel stood tall and loomed over her, his hands clasped in front of him. “You have nothing to say to them. Go. I will decide the punishment for your disobedience later. I’m sure your list grows more behind the longer you waste time with the living. The souls don’t deserve to wait to pass on because you are insolent and nosey. Do your job instead of gossiping.” 

“Yes, sir…” Mirra disappeared and Castiel turned slowly to Dean and Sam, the sadness seeping into his eyes despite his attempts at control. Dean knew that face. 

“Cass..” Dean whispered as he took a step forward. A thunder clap outside brought him to a halt. 

“Don’t, and I do not go by that name anymore. It’s only Death now…Death has no name,” Castiel said as he hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. 

“You have a name, damn it. Don’t let all of this get into your head. We’re going to find you a way out of this…” Dean said firmly but as he spoke, Castiel’s head shot up and his face contorted in rage and fear. 

“NO! I made it clear you were not going to sacrifice yourself anymore and I wouldn’t let you die. This fixes all of that. I can protect you both now, your mother too. It’s the only way I can protect you. You must not interfere. I…I can handle this. I deserve this. It’s a just sentence for all the deaths I have caused over my millennia of living. Being Death has taught me that no one is immune to justice or death. From children to villains. Death comes for everyone, eventually, and one day we will see each other again, when you are both old and grey and your time has come I will be there and we will greet one another for the last time. Until then, do not seek me out. I am dangerous. I. Am. Death. If I so choose I would only have to brush your arm and your heart would stop. Do you not understand? I look at you both and I can see every death you’ve ever had or ever will have. Sam, yours are not so plentiful, but you Dean, it is never ending. You both cause me pain. Do not seek me out or inquire about me again!” Castiel lingered a moment, his eyes locking with Dean in a moment of regret, and he disappeared with a flash of lightning. 

“I...he….He’s fucking terrifying this way,” Sam peeped out and Dean nodded along, clutching the folder he had been holding to his chest. 

“We have to save him,” Dean whispered to the empty room. 

“You can’t,” Dean heard as a whisper in his head that sounded distinctly like the voice of his lost Angel.


	2. Just Gotta Keep Grinding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dean..." Dean opened his eyes at the familiar voice and he realized he must be dreaming. He was behind the wheel of the Impala, parked at what looked to be a beach. He could feel the heat emanating through the windshield and smell the saltwater in the air. There were crowds of people outside but he sat alone in the car, until he turned to the right and saw Castiel sitting int he passenger seat. For a moment his heart skipped a beat, then he saw the black clothes and the sullen expression of his friend.
> 
> "You're able to dream walk again aren't you?" Dean said sadly, his hand stretching out. 
> 
> "It's really me, Dean, but yes. No one can die from anything that happens in their normal dreams, no matter what modern movies tell you, so I thought this was the safest place to talk to you." Castiel, despite his words, kept his hands neatly folded in his lap as he leaned away from Dean's outstretched hand.

Dean dove into all the lore he could find on Death while Sam made calls to other hunters. Hell, Sam even called the British Men of Letters asking vague questions, but without further information they were unwilling or unable to help. Both men had decided no one needed to know Castiel had become Death himself. It put too much of a target on his back....though he could only be killed one way now as far as they knew. Death's Scythe. Dean shuddered as he downed another shot of whiskey, his nose stuck in a book on the four horsemen. He remembered watching Death crumble to ash as his scythe drove into his flesh...This..this was his fault, but how could he have done anything different? He couldn't kill Sam anymore than he could kill Cass...This all went back to him accepting that stupid Mark...

The brothers sat in silence one evening, continually poring through lore, when Dean let a bubble of laughter erupt from his throat. Sam looked over from his book, concerned. "Dean?" He quirked his eyebrow as he gently laid his book down on the tabletop.

"Sorry..sorry. I just realized Cass has been God, and now he's Death..." Dean laughed sadly until tears streamed out of his eyes. He wiped them away with a frustrated swipe as Sam looked on, unmoving.

Sam sighed and threw a bookmark in his book before rubbing his eyes. "Dean..we'll get him back. He came back from the God thing, the Lucifer thing, and everything else. We can get him back from this too..."

Dean put his face in his hands, scratching mindlessly at the stubble growing in."He's tough, but everyone has their breaking point Sammy.."  
\---------------  
Dean fell into a fitful sleep, his face pressed into the pages of an old tome they had found that they were told referenced Death. So far Dean had read 155 pages into it and had only found one reference, and it had been nothing useful. He only had 345 pages to go, he told himself as his eyes slid closed.

"Dean..." Dean opened his eyes at the familiar voice and he realized he must be dreaming. He was behind the wheel of the Impala, parked at what looked to be a beach. He could feel the heat emanating through the windshield and smell the saltwater in the air. There were crowds of people outside but he sat alone in the car, until he turned to the right and saw Castiel sitting int he passenger seat. For a moment his heart skipped a beat, then he saw the black clothes and the sullen expression of his friend.

"You're able to dream walk again aren't you?" Dean said sadly, his hand stretching out. 

"It's really me, Dean, but yes. No one can die from anything that happens in their normal dreams, no matter what modern movies tell you, so I thought this was the safest place to talk to you." Castiel, despite his words, kept his hands neatly folded in his lap as he leaned away from Dean's outstretched hand.

Dean turned away from the beach scene before him to give his full attention to Castiel. "What is it Cass" We're still trying to find a way to.." 

His words died on his lips as Castiel's face became stern and his eyes tightened. "You must stop, Dean. Stop the researching. There is nothing you can do, and nothing you should. That is not why I called you here. Are you on an active case at this time?"

Dean sighed and leaned his head against the seat, frustrated but not wanting to argue for the short time they had together. "No. We've been working on helping you...and nothing has come up...why?"

Castiel held out a neatly folded piece of paper. It was thick, cream colored paper one might find in a classy office, so unlike the torn pieces of notebook paper Cass would write on when researching with them before. "This is the names of six vagrants that have died in Atlanta in the last four weeks. Drained of blood with their throats ripped out."

Dean stiffened as he carefully took the paper from Castiel's fingers."Why haven't we heard about it yet?"

"No one has found the bodies. The address where they can be found is also on there...if you can find a safe way to let the police find them so they can be laid to rest. Their souls have been taken care of but the bodies deserve to be buried. I need you to take care of the vampires, Dean...As far as I know, their time is not up for many years...I need their time to be up now... Without you and Sam stopping them, there will be at least ten more people killed before they move on." Dean studied the determined look cemented on the Angel's face and he nodded slowly.

"Okay..Okay we can take care of it...Are you even supposed to be doing this? Isn't this interfering with the natural order?" Dean said as he caught himself tracing Castiel's handwriting on the paper. 

"Nothing about dying at the hands of a vampire is natural, Dean," Castiel said solemnly as he gazed out at the beach scene still going on around them. They were both silent for several minutes before Castiel sighed. "You and Sam should go to the beach some time, after the vampire case. Take a vacation. You both have earned that much. Do that for me won't you? Enjoy life instead of staying imprisoned in the bunker...I have to go."

"Cass, wait!" Dean said suddenly but he felt the cool breeze of wings and Castiel was gone.

Dean's head shot off the table as Sam shook him by the shoulder, his grip firm. "Hey, Dean! It's okay You just fell asleep. You were yelling.."

"Cass.." Dean said softly as he lifted his head, blinking up at his brother. 

Sam's eyes were filled with questions he wanted to ask but he sighed and raked his fingers through his hair instead. "Yeah you shouted his name..."

"No, I was _talking_ to Cass. He came to me in a dream and gave us a job. Vampire nest in Atlanta. I know it's a drive but..." As Dean sat up fully and unclenched his fist, a piece of paper tumbled out onto the table. Dean picked it up and smoothed it out. It was in Castiel's handwriting all right, and had the names of six people and an address. At the bottom it only said. 

_Thank you my friends,_

_Best Regards, Death_

Sam sat down heavily in the chair beside his brother, fingering the edges of the paper dean had gripped under his palm. 'So, what, he's going to send us on cases where he thinks he can save lives instead of just reaping souls? That's...that's kind of brilliant actually. He always was pretty good at figuring out ways around his orders.."

"He said these vampires life weren't supposed to kick the bucket for several more years, and they'll keep hunting and killing. They've already killed six and there will be ten more before they move on somewhere else... We have to do this for him." Dean studied the piece of paper. Of course Castiel's first orders would have to do with the homeless. He was among them once, again because of Dean. Damn it. He would do this for Castiel and those six no one was around to save.

Sam stood quickly, stacking the lore books one on top of the other. "No question. Let's get packed up and head out."

\---------------  
As Dean stood panting and blood splattered over the last of the vampires in the nest, he felt a cold chill rush up his spine. He and Sam locked eyes, their machetes still dripping as Castiel appeared on the other side of the room with a sad smile on his face. The address Castiel had given them had taken them to an abandoned factory in the industrial area. No one would have searched this building for bodies until the numbers had climbed into the alarming. The blue was almost gone from Cass' eyes, the black pupil swallowing it up. He tilted his head to the side and studied them a moment, fingering his ring with his free hand. 

"Cass?" Dean said quietly

"Thank you both. I'm not allowed to take someone before their time nor are any of the other reapers, but if someone else intervenes, someone human...there is nothing anyone can say about it. Besides, who is there to answer to anymore? God? Michael? Raphael? No one...no one but me..." Castiel laughed eerily. "It's funny isn't it? I just wanted to be free from Heaven, away from fate, free from all of it, and here I am keeping the Cosmos in balance...I'm now the most powerful supernatural creature left in the game, and all I wanted was to live amongst humans, helping people..."

Sam's forehead creased in concern. "Cass, are you alright?"

"Don't I look alright to you, dear Sam?" Castiel frowned. "I'm perfectly alright. Reaping is just what I wanted to do with my pathetic, little, insignificant life. It was foolish of me to think I could ever be anything but what I was destined to be, a servant of Heaven...Thank you both again," and he was gone.

"The fuck is wrong with him?" Dean said quietly as they went to wipe off their machetes and walked toward the Impala, the gravel of the parking lot crunching heavily under their feet.

Sam went to rake his hand through his hair but grimaced at the blood splatter on his fingers and rubbed his hand down his plaid shirt front."You told me. Everyone has their breaking point...Forcing someone with as big a heart as Castiel to reap souls day in and day out, send them to Heaven or Hell...it has to be torture for him. He's only ever wanted to help people since we met..." They leaned over the trunk of the Impala as they put their weapons away. 

Dean slammed his hand on trunk as he popped it closed with a little more force than necessary."He doesn't think he deserves a name anymore...just calls himself Death...Sam what are we going to do? We're losing him..."

"Right now? We call the cops from a payphone and tell them where to find the bodies of the victims...then, back to research. One step at a time, Dean. We just gotta keep grinding."


	3. Just don't hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Cass....Are you here?" Nothing but silence met him until he slipped on the whiskey and fell, a large chunk of the glass bottle sliding into his open palm. "Shit!" Dean hissed out, trying to grab the table to pull himself up. He stumbled and almost fell back onto the floor but his chair slid sideways and he stumbled into it instead. "Cass, dude, I can feel you. Don't be a dick."

It took Dean another two weeks to realize that Castiel was checking up on them...Sam had gone out for groceries. Dean knew his brother had been looking for any reason to get out of the bunker since Dean had gotten on his lore kick. He'd had his nose in a book or on the computer for hours on end, barely eating or sleeping except when Sam made him. So, while Sam was out Dean had gotten an open bottle of whiskey out of the cabinet and had decided to drown his sorrows, and he succeeded. He was three sheets to wind when he went to get another glass and he felt a cold draft as the bottle tumbled onto the floor, shattering and spilling all over. Being as drunk as he was, it took him a moment to put the reason together.

"Cass....Are you here?" Nothing but silence met him until he slipped on the whiskey and fell, a large chunk of the glass bottle sliding into his open palm. "Shit!" Dean hissed out, trying to grab the table to pull himself up. He stumbled and almost fell back onto the floor but his chair slid sideways and he stumbled into it instead. "Cass, dude, I can feel you. Don't be a dick."

Castiel appeared on the other side of the table, scowling fiercely with his arms crossed. "Do you know that drinking takes time off your life? I didn't choose this," Castiel spread his arms wide to encompass himself, 'to watch you drink yourself into an early grave. Who do you think will reap you then?"

Dean sighed as he gingerly slid the piece of glass out of his hand. "I'm not a drunk. I'm just...depressed...and pissed off."

Castiel's anger melted away, leaving behind a glimmer of his old self. "I know, Dean. I'm sorry. If there had been another way..."

"You didn't even talk to me about it! You just left! We're family. We're supposed to make decisions as a family, but you...you and Sam are always going off making deals without me."

"Oh really? Sam and I?" Dean felt the floor tremble...Shit. He'd pissed Death Cass off. "What about you going to surrender to Michael? Inviting another Angel in to possess your brother?What about the Mark of Cain? What about Death getting you to kill Sam so you could be taken away...Oh yeah I know about that one now even though you didn't tell me...What about your deal with Billie? When was I consulted on those DEAN WINCHESTER? Don't you dare preach at me about not being consulted about choices with potentially devastating consequences!" Castiel's hands were palm down on the table, his shoulders hitching in controlled anger. 

Dean's eyes grew wide and his face grew pale as he realized just how right Castiel was. He averted his eyes, holding pressure on his bleeding hand."You're right. I'm sorry. Jesus, you're right. It's just...damn it, Cass. We miss you. I miss you, and you don't deserve this."

Castiel was still trembling and Dean felt cold. His fingertips and nose felt like ice. "Do you think anyone other than you or Sam sees me the way you do? I am a monster to everyone in Heaven and Hell. The punishment fits the crime I have been told. Many believe I should be honored to hold such a title, to be so powerful after all I did. I don't want any of it, but to keep you safe, Dean, I will bear it."

Dean locked eyes with Castiel and Cass drug his away, noting Dean's palm was still bleeding heavily. "I...I can fix that...I think...without killing you. I've been working on my control...when someone isn't making me angry.." His eyes again locked with Dean's, the anger slowing draining away, replaced by resignation. 

"Sorry.." Dean sighed out, his shoulders slumping as the adrenaline wore off. 

Castiel leaned over the table, his hand outstretched hesitantly. Dean could not get used to the black clothes..."Hold out your hand, palm up. Do not try to touch me in any way...This was so much simpler when I could just heal."

Dean held his hand out as Castiel had instructed, the blood pooling in his palm. Castiel matched his palm over Dean's and a bright white glow emanated from his palm. Dean drew it back as Castiel leaned away. 

Dean wiggled his fingers as he studied his healed hand, smiling softly at his friend. "See, buddy, you didn't kill me!"

A ghost of a smile appeared at the corner of Castiel's lips. "I also didn't touch you."

"Couldn't you bring me back if you accidentally killed me?" Dean pondered aloud as he wiped the remnants of the blood off on his shirt. 

Castiel shrugged as he tucked his hands into his pockets, as if he thought simply talking about killing Dean might cause it to happen. "In theory, but I'd rather not test that one out. It's not like there is a need for me to touch anyone ever. It's better to be safe.."

Dean subconsciously scowled at Cass' words. Of course there was a need to touch. Not even in a sexual way. He knew Castiel loved hugs and was fond of the comforting shoulder pat. "Look man, I'm just going to be honest here. You scare the hell out of me like this...but we're not going to stop looking for a way to help you. I'm never going to stop...You are my best friend, and I need you."

"Death is not allowed the luxury of friends, Dean. I have my brother horsemen..." He trailed off, his eyes conflicted and disturbed. "Though I did assist you in stealing all of their rings, so they are not pleasant with me. Please, Dean...don't let there be another Apocalypse..." Castiel gripped the table again. "If I am summoned to serve Lucifer...I will take my scythe to my throat before I will ever serve him again." The blue of his eyes swam back to the surface for but a moment, his fear reeling in the darkness.

Dean leaned over the table, wanting to grab his friend's hand and comfort him, but their hands remained apart. "I promise you I will never let that happen, Cass. Sam and I will never let anyone get us to jump start the Apocalypse ever again." They stared at one another from inches apart, but it was a world of difference. Dean could swear he could see galaxies he'd never seen spiraling in Castiel's eyes. The old Death had said Dean was like an insect to him, tiny and insignificant....but this Death, this was Castiel. Dean knew...he'd known for a long time, that neither one thought the other insignificant. “I will never let Lucifer control you again. Ever again. I swear.”

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and cocked his head as if in pain. “They’re calling me back. There’s a tsunami coming in on the coast of…Never mind. You’ll hear about it soon enough…They need me. The body count will be immense.” Castiel shuddered as he drew his hand back from the table. “Goodbye, Dean…I’m sorry for spying. I just worry for you.”

“Come any time you can, Cass…just don’t hide,” Dean whispered as Castiel nodded and disappeared.   
\------------------------------  
Dean tossed and turned fitfully in his sleep. Visions of Castiel walking along a body and debris strewn beach filled his thoughts. Other Reapers would be dotted along the beach as well he imagined. He could envision him kneeling before a frightened child, explaining he had to go with him, to pass on. His kind eyes would be a comfort as he extended his hand to embrace them, Dean told himself. He wouldn’t think of the way he had run from his own Reaper. He had not even made it one day wearing Death’s ring either, and Castiel was stuck doing this the rest of his existence? No. He would find a way to help him. Suddenly Castiel looked toward Dean in what he had thought was just a daydream as he lay fretting in bed. Dean’s eyes flew open and he sat straight up in bed. Shit. Was that real? How? Dean threw his legs over the side of the bed and put his head in his hands. What was happening?

He looked at the clock, and though it was early, he threw on his robe and shuffled to the kitchen to make coffee. As he got there, he saw a soft glow already emanating from the kitchen. Sam was there. He was refilling his own cup, clad in running gear and stretching. Dean’s slow, groggy shuffle was a direct contrast to Sam’s energy.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Sam said as he read something on his phone, sipping at his coffee as he stretched.

“No…It is unnatural how much of a morning person you are…” Dean grumbled as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet and got himself coffee, sinking tiredly into an empty chair around the dining table.

“You could be too. You just have to get into the routine. Man, that’s awful…” Sam said to himself as he scrolled through his phone. 

As Dean scrubbed at his face, he looked over at Sam. “What’s awful?” Dean wrapped both hands around his mug and inhaled appreciatively. 

“This tsunami that happened overnight. The death toll is really….” Sam looked over to Dean, whose eyes were tight and hard. “What?”

“Nothing…nothing. That’s awful,” Dean mumbled out, genuine sorrow for the loss of life mingled with his own worry of how he was seeing Castiel in real time in his own head. They sipped on their coffee in comfortable silence until Sam rinsed his mug and left it in the sink and headed out to run. Dean sat there with his head in his hands, his heart almost physically aching with worry.  
\--------   
When Sam came back from running, Dean wasn’t in the stack of books still to go through about Death. He was in the Angel section. He had fallen asleep with his head on a book. Sam pried the book out from under Dean’s grasp. The page was on Dream Walking. Sam looked down at Dean, his brother who did not confide half of what was going on with him. Sam looked at the page, showing an archaic illustration of a biblical looking Angel hovering over a sleeping human-like figure. The Angel hovered close enough that Sam thought it looked almost like a lover about to kiss their sleeping partner. Sam again glanced down at his brother. There was something there between him and Castiel. Neither one seemed to see it but Cas wasn’t crashing Sam’s dreams, only Dean’s. Dean had also not seen fit to tell Sam if it had happened more than the one time, and if he was researching it, Sam was sure it had. He turned to the next page and saw a notation written in Castiel’s delicate scrawl. It took him by surprise but he remembered Cas sat up while they were asleep. Perhaps he had been correcting some outdated facts. In his handwriting were written six words, underlined and with a question mark behind them. Castiel must have assumed the Winchesters would never have a need to study these tomes or he never would have added this notation. 

_ Heightened connection due to profound bond? _

Dean had not made it to this page yet….Sam slid the book back up to Dean’s grip and he wandered off to let him wake up on his own time.


End file.
